


blurring the line

by nakimdoyu



Category: SuperM (Korea Band)
Genre: Boys In Love, Boys Kissing, Canon Compliant, Cute, Fluff, M/M, Porn with Feelings, Smut, blowjob, do not talk to me, i have a paperbag over my head, markai nation rise!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-01
Updated: 2019-12-01
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:14:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21634948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nakimdoyu/pseuds/nakimdoyu
Summary: Mark adores Jongin. Has adored him his entire idol career.Jongin adores Mark too. But Mark doesn’t know to what extent.Until tonight.
Relationships: Kim Jongin | Kai/Mark Lee
Comments: 42
Kudos: 308





	blurring the line

**Author's Note:**

> This was impulsive.

The first stroke, skin on skin, Mark thinks he blacked out. 

Well, he really did. Because when he opens his eyes again, Jongin is smiling down at him, soft and gentle and almost like this is all just in his head. Except it’s not. Because here comes the second stroke. And the third. And Mark is already losing count.

There’s a pair of lips sucking on his earlobe. There’s a hand roaming the expanse of skin under his t-shirt. There’s a deep rumbling voice murmuring sweet nothings, plucking his heartstrings to this stupid melody of a love song. 

A fucking love song!

Mark has gotten a fair amount of head from his members. Most of them, if not all, were out of necessity. Out of needs.

It was either Taeyong insisting, not that Mark was opposed to it, that they both could use some de-stressing after a late night in the studio, or Johnny demanding “cuddles” first thing in the morning, both still half asleep (they’ve talked and consented to it), or Hyuck craving for attention from another human being after a whole day of being locked in his room playing video games on their day off.

But none of those had ever felt like this. And Mark really doesn’t know what the fuck _this_ is.

Sure it’s still fulfilling his needs. Amidst flying and constantly being on the road for SuperM tour, juggling NCT 127 schedule, writing and composing, all the while trying to get at least the minimum amount of sleep every night, Mark hasn’t had the time to himself in a while. And it was a blessing when Jongin presented him with the proposal, unexpected.

Jongin had came knocking on his hotel room door at half past 11 and when Mark opened it, he had two cartons of chocolate milk and a pack of Oreo in hands, the same soft smile Mark is growing fond of stretching his lips. Which is why Mark thought he heard it wrong at first. It’s happened before. With Johnny. On fucking camera.

Jongin was sitting in the armchair, having just popped a whole cookie sandwich into his mouth, mumbling a little. His legs propped up right next to Mark who was sitting on the edge of his bed, who just took the first sip of his chocolate milk, eyes wide looking at Jongin trying to decipher what he had just said. 

But when Jongin swallowed, spoke again and he was saying the exact same thing Mark thought he imagined, his breath kind of hitched. “Will you let hyung make you feel good?” 

Mark could swear that time stopped. The room suddenly felt smaller, the air thick you could cut through it with a knife. He opened his mouth, tried to say something coherent, tried to ask what Jongin meant by that, but nothing seemed to come out. It was like he’d forgotten every word he’d ever learned in this lifetime. 

“Please let hyung suck you off.”

The way Jongin pushed him onto his back, reached down to palm him through his shorts as soon as he managed a nod to the big question, Mark wondered how long Jongin had been thinking about this.

Mark was so fucked. 

Mark _is_ so fucked. Because this is Kim Jongin. His Jongin hyung. The mighty Kai on stage. The Kai who has fans wrapped around his finger, hysterically screaming at his every move. The same Kai who has all the other idols praising him to the highest of heavens. This senior Mark’s watched from afar and admired and looked up to his entire idol career. Has a hand down his shorts, fingers wrapped loosely around his dick? His fucking mediocre dick?

“Is this okay?” 

Mark short-circuits. He wants to scream his lungs out. Wants to rip his hair off of his head. Wants to swallow his entire fists. Because how is this okay? His hyung is offering to make him feel good but what _can_ he offer his hyung?

But of course it’s okay. Everything is okay because now Jongin is asking again. Gosh, Jongin hasn’t stopped asking and asking and asking when Mark can barely utter a word. “Can I kiss you?” And kisses calm Mark down. He had found this out with Johnny, and Johnny’s kisses have helped him in a lot of situations. So he nods. 

Jongin’s lips that were just roaming the expanse of his exposed skin are now on his very own lips, gentle, almost nervous. A stark contrast to his hand, working up and down Mark’s length with certainty. Mark basks in the sensation, melts into the sheets, lets his guard down. Jongin makes him want to. And he feels so alive, exactly how he felt a few hours ago, performing Talk About live for the first time on the Dickies Arena stage.

When Jongin pulls away, his lips glisten in the yellow glow of the room, smiling down at Mark like he always does, and Mark feels something tighten in his chest. Feels a heartstring stretch it almost snaps. And Jongin is finally, _finally_ moving down the bed, his warm breaths leaving goosebumps in their wake. 

Mark breaks eye contact, looks straight up to the ceiling of the hotel room, too scared of the magnificent view he would see if he were to look down. Too scared that this would just be a one-time thing. Too scared of getting addicted to this thing he has no right to. No goddamn right! And when he feels Jongin blowing softly along his length, he lets a breathy “fuck” slip because his dick fucking twitches, and he’s sure as all hell that Jongin sees it. Feels it too. Because Jongin is, honest to god, giggling. 

Mark is just about to whine out of embarrassment, but what was once Jongin’s thumb is now Jongin’s tongue and Mark can only choke on his own inhale. Jongin is licking at Mark’s slit, lapping up the beads of precum and Mark, for the love of god, can’t remember how to fucking breathe.

“Mark, look at me.” Jongin’s voice is calm, dripping with honey, and Mark doesn’t see the point of denying him, so he looks. “Do you feel good?”

Does he feel good? Does _he_ feel good? This is an absolute out-of-body experience despite only getting started and Jongin has the audacity to ask if Mark feels good? Goddamn. He feels good. So fucking good he might pass out. 

And if Mark wasn’t already speechless, he is now because Jongin is giving his cockhead a kitten lick. And another. And another. Until he can’t keep his eyes open anymore, throws his head back on the pillows, hopes that it’s enough of an answer to Jongin’s question. 

He’s floating through time, the only thing grounding him is the swirl of Jongin' tongue. And when Jongin’s mouth finally, _finally_ envelopes him in its warmth, the warmth of Jongin’s hand on his thigh blurs into the background, and all the moans Mark’s been trying to contain spill in a constant stream through his parted lips. 

Is it a few minutes of is it all night, Mark can’t really tell, but the way Jongin hollows his cheeks as his head bobs up and down, the way Jongin catches his eyes every now and then, the way Jongin pulls him out with a filthy pop and follows it with a giggle as Mark whimpers, the way Jongin’s right hand finds his left to interlace their fingers, the way Jongin’s left hand grips around his base and moves down to his perineum when he least expects it, and the way Jongin milks him through his orgasm, watches as his face scrunches and twists, every image sears like a brand in his mind. 

And Mark doesn’t ever want to forget them.

It takes a minute or two for Mark to come to. And when he finally does, Jongin has a hand in his hair, his face so close to Mark’s, breathing his air. “Hey.” There it is again, that same fond smile Jongin seems to always throw his way, that same fond smile Mark can’t seem to get enough of, finds its way back to Jongin’s face, creeps right into Mark’s heart and makes a home there. 

Jongin’s lips still glisten as they move, but differently now. And when realisation hits, the already flushed Mark flushes even harder, pulls Jongin down by the neck so he can hide in the crook there. “Y-you have cum, on...on your face,” his voice muffled against Jongin’s skin. And when Jongin giggles, Mark whines, nuzzles even closer.

“Your cum, baby.”

Baby. 

_Baby._

BABY.

Mark wants to evaporate. Right now. Kim Jongin is in _his_ bed, body pressed so close to his, has _his_ cum smeared across his face, and is now calling him “baby”? He’s going to lose his fucking mind! 

“Lemme clean you up?” Jongin asks, his hand rubbing up and down Mark’s side.

Mark is calm enough to loosen his grip, calm enough to think again.“But, hyung,” he reaches between their bodies and down to Jongin’s crotch. It’s only right to want to give back. But he doesn’t find what he expects to find; Jongin, hard, straining in his sweats. What he does find though, is a wet spot and a softening dick under his touch. The implication of it all makes him gasp. Audibly.

“Hyung… you—”

And Jongin must know what Mark is thinking, knows that Mark is scared to say it, because he pulls away and smiles, says it for him, clear as day, “Yes, Mark. Hyung got off to getting you off.”

Mark’s mouth hangs open. There is no word to describe how he feels about this. But it’s good. Overwhelmingly good. His pupils shake as he stares into Jongin’s eyes. “How?”

Jongin pauses. Mark can almost hear the gears shifting in his head. And in just a split second, he dips down to give Mark a chaste kiss. “Gosh. You don’t know. You don’t know how beautiful you look under me, do you?”

If what Mark felt when Jongin first touched him, first kissed him, was overwhelming, it’s nothing compared to what he feels now. His breath catches in his throat, and he feels his heart swell at those words. 

Jongin has told Mark before, even mentioned it in interviews, about how much he adores him. And it’s not that Mark doesn’t believe him, there is no way he can not believe him, because Jongin shows it in his actions. But this, _this_ tops it all. Mark has never believed in something so much, has never felt so strongly about someone’s words. Until tonight. 

“Hyung.”

“Hmm?”

“C-can i kiss you?”

Jongin’s smile falters. And for a moment, he glances down to Mark’s lips and back up. With the confidence he’s been exuding the entire night, Jongin looks like he’s caught off guard. It’s all it takes for Mark to surge upward, catching Jongin’s lips with his. It’s slow, it’s passionate. It’s everything Mark has ever wanted. His hands scratching Jongin’s scalp, Jongin’s weight holding him down. This too, he thinks, he can never get enough of. 

Jongin is the first to pull away. “Mark Lee.” Mark is still breathless, pupils blown as he tries to focus on Jongin’s face. “This is nice and all, but we should get cleaned up and then go to sleep. _You_ need sleep.”

It’s bare minimum because it’s common knowledge, but Jongin acknowledging his fucked up sleeping schedule does something to him. He tries to hide it, goes in for a peck and then agrees with a hum.

Jongin disappears into the bathroom long enough for Mark to regulate his breathing, comes back in a fresh pair of familiar shorts - Mark’s shorts - and a wet towel in hand. The entire process is so affectionate. Jongin is so gentle in handling him, his fingers smoothing across Mark’s skin, the smile never leaving his face. Mark wonders how happy this makes him.

When Jongin is done, just about to leave again for the bathroom, Mark tugs him back softly by the wrist. “Hyung?” 

Pause.

“Sleep here tonight?”

Jongin has been smiling the entire time he is with Mark, but this, _this_ smile is something else entirely. It’s warm, it reaches his eyes, and it sends Mark’s heart hurtling down the highway of emotions. Mark doesn’t think he can hide it any longer.

So when Jongin slips in between the sheets, reaches around Mark’s waist to pull him close, Mark turns in his hold, their faces now just inches apart. Mark looks. Like, _really_ looks at Jongin from this distance. And when he’s finally gathered enough courage, he cups Jongin’s face with a trembling hand, thumb softly rubbing the cheekbone. It feels natural, the way Jongin closes his eyes and leans into the touch.

Jongin is beautiful. So, _so_ beautiful. And Mark is scared. So scared of what this all could mean. This entire thing. Because he knows for sure that after _that,_ something has shifted between them. _This_ is a lot more than what it used to be, and he doesn’t know how to feel about it.

He doesn’t realise he’s furrowing his eyebrows until Jongin reaches forward to smooth it with his fingers. “You’re thinking too much.”

He is.

Mark takes a shuddering breath. “How can I not?”

“We don’t have to figure it out tonight. We don’t even have to talk about it until you’re ready.”

Mark didn’t think that was possible. But maybe it is. “Okay.”

”Okay.”

It’s nice being in Jongin’s arms, Mark thinks. Jongin’s pulse is a steady rhythm under his fingers, and Mark feels himself slowly slipping into a peaceful slumber. Which is why he can’t be sure if the last thing he hears is real or just a dream.

“Good night, Mark. I love you.”

**Author's Note:**

> I still have a paperbag over my head.
> 
> Do not talk to me.
> 
> (Unless you like the fic.)
> 
> 21/04/2020 update: i do not have a paper bag over my head anymore. I’m a loud and proud kaimark shipper thanks


End file.
